


but if i'm not the same, the next question is 'who in the world am i?'

by agronshit



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, One Shot, quinn struggles to come to terms with her feelings, small use of homophobic language, typical problems that comes with the Fabrays and religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agronshit/pseuds/agronshit
Summary: Quinn Fabray has kissed Rachel Berry exactly four times in her life.AKAthe three times Quinn ran and the one time she stayed.(slight tw warning for hinting at/referencing EDs and abuse (very mild, not at all explicit), homophobia/internalized homophobia, and a few uses of homophobic slurs)





	but if i'm not the same, the next question is 'who in the world am i?'

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote all of these parts after 12am, so my apologies for any errors. each part represents one year of high school, parts ii-iv are based on scenes from the show. Most of the homophobia is Quinn's fears due to her religious upbringing, and I promise there's nothing too explicit as far as I'm aware. anyway, enjoy!

**i.**

Her hands clench the sink, her breaths shallow as she attempts to recover from a bout of nausea that hit her just as the bell for lunch rang. Her stomach growls, reminding her the contents of her stomach are nothing except the shakes Sue makes them drink. Quinn stares at herself in the mirror, and her own reflection bothers her. Her skin is paler than it was before she moved to McKinley. She’s thinner, thank God, but in the moment she stares at herself, her reflection looks more like that of a skeleton. Her cheekbones are prominent, and her eyes seem dull and almost sunken in. Quinn looks like a hollow shell, and if she’s honest, she feels like one most of the time. Between the daily drone of the same routine and the utter lack of excuses to smile, Quinn feels empty and so far from the girl who used to smile so often. She knows her eyes are more from her trouble sleeping, but it only adds to the look. The pretty but empty look she sees constantly.

“This isn’t healthy, you know,” a soft voice disturbs her thoughts. Quinn whips around to see Rachel, whose hands are clasped together in front of her as her lips purse. “The diet Sue has you on isn’t even really a diet. It’s practically starvation.”

Quinn turns away from Rachel and opts for staring at her in the mirror, mouth opening for a second before closing. She knows the look on the girl’s face. She’s seen it often. Concern mixed with admiration mixed with a sad, helpless gaze. The look makes Quinn’s stomach churn, and she grips the sink harder to keep herself from falling as her knees weaken. She closes her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly to keep herself from getting sick or dizzy.

“It keeps the weight down. It’s what Coach wants, and it’s what has to be done,” Quinn mumbles. Rachel frowns, and Quinn watches out the corner of her eye as she approaches her, settling a hand on Quinn’s shoulder once she’s close enough.

“At the cost of your health. Is ruining the effort you’ve made really worth some stupid popularity? Worth Sue’s approval? You don’t even _look_ like yourself anymore.” Quinn flinches away from Rachel’s hand. She’s right; Quinn knows that. She can’t be at the bottom again, though. No matter what Rachel says, Quinn can’t listen to her. She can’t slip back into the hole of being the only girl sitting alone, losing herself in books because no one cares to hold a conversation with her. Not even Rachel would be friends with that girl. The girl her father could barely look at. She can’t let herself trust Rachel and accept her warnings and advice when they would just force her back into a place similar to her past. McKinley’s too harsh to trust Rachel’s guidance.

Even if Rachel’s the only person that knows her. Knows her past. Knows what she went through to get where she is currently.

She can’t let herself get close to Rachel again. Not when her doing so only ends in Quinn getting in trouble with her father, with Quinn getting hurt. By extension, it puts Rachel in danger, too. Being friends with Rachel has always put them both in danger. The Berry name is well known in Lima, and not for a good reason.

“Quinn—”

“I’m fine, Rachel.” The tiredness in her voice says otherwise, and she doesn’t have the energy to move away when Rachel steps closer again.

“You’re not. You haven’t been since your family… moved neighbourhoods. Since you joined the _Cheerios!_ to please your dad.”

“Rachel, _please_ ,” Quinn begs, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Rachel sits in front of her, leaning forward.

“No! I’m not leaving this alone when you’re getting caught up in something unhealthy again. We’re Freshmen, Quinn. We have three whole years to become popular without harming ourselves.” Rachel’s volume drops; so does Quinn’s heart at how the corners of her lips turn down, and Quinn’s gaze also follows suit. “I don’t want to lose you, Quinn. Not anymore than I already have.”

Quinn swallows thickly, her chest aching as her heart races. Rachel meets her eyes once again, and her inhale catches in her throat. For weeks, being near Rachel has caused the same feeling over and over again. A rush in her body, a pounding in her heart. Butterflies that make her want to vomit until they go away. An urge to get closer to Rachel despite everything she knows will happen if she does. An urge that pesters her even though she knows it’s wrong.

Rachel grasps her hand, and Quinn feels like vomiting again.

“I don’t know how to get out of this,” she admits quietly, and she watches the tear that slides down Rachel’s cheek as her grip on Quinn’s hand tightens.

“Quit the _Cheerios!_ , Quinn. Get back on a proper eating habit, find hobbies that don’t bring you misery. _Work_ to be in a better place than whatever this is.” Rachel’s closer now, almost pleading with Quinn. Quinn swallows, and she doesn’t realize how short the distance between them is. Just like she doesn’t realize she’s the one closing the space, following the urge she’s tried to desperately to ignore.

Their lips meet, and for a second Rachel tenses. And then she’s holding both of Quinn’s hands tightly as she softly returns the kiss. Quinn moves closer to Rachel, and she feels calm again. Kissing Rachel is like paradise. Any worries or problems she was dealing with not even five seconds ago seem to fall away. It’s like Rachel is a cure for her. A remedy for everything wrong in her life. As unrealistic as it is, Rachel helps her forget. And forgetting is nice.

Rachel’s lips are soft, reminding Quinn of vanilla, and she can’t figure out if it’s the smell or taste. Her hands find Rachel’s cheeks timidly, keeping her close as if she’s terrified Rachel will disappear if she doesn’t.

She feels the smile Rachel lets slip through. Her heart pounds, rushing blood through her body faster. Quinn feels safe; she always feels safe with Rachel.

And then her father’s voice is in her head again.

_I won’t have my daughter befriending anyone being raised by fags. We’re moving. And I swear to God, Quinn, if I see you with that Rachel…_

She knew what he was saying. She had _felt_ what he meant a week later after he caught her smiling and laughing with Rachel after school let out.

Quinn jerks away from Rachel, her eyes wide. She kissed Rachel. Rachel, who she wasn’t supposed to talk to. Rachel, who was a girl. Rachel, who made her feel things that would condemn her to Hell. Rachel, who was most definitely not popular. Rachel, who once again was a _girl._ A girl with two dads. Two dads that always incited rage in Russell Fabray.

Rachel opens her eyes, and her eyebrows furrow at the panic in Quinn’s eyes. Quinn watches her for a moment, stumbling around words. She needs to say _something, anything_ to justify herself. She was just upset. She was just upset, and she needed comfort. Brittany and Santana kissed all the time as friends. And it was a one time thing.

Except she’d been wanting to kiss Rachel since the last time she made her laugh. Since she had made Quinn laugh the summer she moved schools.

And her father was going to kill her.

Quinn launches herself up so quickly it forces Rachel to fall backwards, hitting her head against the tile. Her quick movements get her out of the bathroom before Rachel sits up, and she’s at her locker before the tears start. Her shoulders tremble before the sobs cause them to shake violently, and Quinn slams her hand against her locker.

She had a crush on Rachel Berry. A crush that both God and her daddy would hate her for. She can’t be gay. She can’t be gay, and she can’t like Rachel. She can’t even be friends with her. She couldn’t be a _dyke,_ as her father would put it. 

“Quinn? Why did you—”

“What do you _want,_ ” she hisses, but she hesitates as she thinks back to the kiss. The details run through her mind, like how she remembers Rachel holding her hands. And how soft Rachel’s hands were, how nice they felt in her hands as Rachel kissed her back.

_Liking the same sex is a sin, and they will burn in Hell for that._

Bile rises in Quinn’s throat as she forces out the insult

“Manhands,” Quinn finally says, forcing her face to harden as she slams the locker shut. Her eyes meet Rachel’s, and once again, Quinn wants to vomit. Rachel’s face falls; her eyes fill with tears. If Quinn had a quarter for the amount of times she’s felt sick today, she’d probably have enough to buy a candy bar she’d sneak into Rachel’s bag because she wouldn’t eat it herself.

A tear slips down Rachel’s cheek as she speaks, a reaction to the insult from the girl she considered her best friend. Quinn’s heart sinks, and she hates herself more for hurting Rachel than she did after kissing her.

“Manhands? Why would you _say_ that?” The words stumble out, broken up by Rachel’s erratic breathing. “What did I _do_ to you, Quinn? All I did was try to be a good friend!”

Quinn forces her face to keep the hard appearance, pursing her lips as she turns away from Rachel. She could do this. She could push away the only person she cared about and be her daddy’s perfect, innocent, _Christian_ girl.

“You thought we could actually be friends,” she tosses over her shoulder, shattering whatever chance she had at being happy with Rachel by her side.. At being close with the one person who understood her. The one person who could always read her like a book. Until now.

But it was fine. So long as she was at the top and a good Christian girl, it was fine. The only things that mattered were God, her relationship with him, and staying away from her loser past.

And not ruining her family’s name nor her family as a whole.

“Quinn,” Rachel says, her voice cracking. Quinn wills herself to keep walking. To keep putting distance between them.

“Quinn, _please._ ”

Quinn only leaves her with silence, hearing the soft sobs coming from Rachel. The distance almost causes her to miss the sentence Rachel utters, causing tears to sting Quinn’s own eyes.

“I _hate_ you.”

**ii.**

She’s not sure what happened. They were all sitting there, waiting for Mr. Schue to finally tell them who was going to chaperone them at Sectionals. They were chatting, placing bets, or in Quinn’s case, fidgeting as she thought about, once again, the situation she was in. She preferred worrying about when Finn would find out the truth over staring at Rachel, all the feelings she’s had since forever taunting her.

And then the door had slammed open, and everything happened faster than Quinn could keep up. Finn had Puck on the floor, slamming one fist after another into his face, within seconds. She knows she’s crying, and she can feel the strain in her throat as she screams at him to stop, to simply talk to them. Quinn’s terrified, and she already knows why Finn’s so angry and violent. Everyone stands there watching, and all Quinn can do is sob and plead, her hands clenching at her side.

Schue rushes in, forcing Finn up and off Puck with Mike and Matt’s help. He’s struggling against them, and Quinn only sobs harder.

“Tell the truth!” Finn yells, and Quinn flinches, her chest heaving. She can feel a few eyes on her, and part of her knows Rachel’s one of them.

“Punk just walked in and sucker punched me,” Puck spits out, glaring at the quarterback.

“Don’t play dumb! You’re too freakin dumb to play dumb!” The guys force Finn farther from Puck.

Quinn can’t hold it in any longer, and her voice cracks as she speaks.

“Who told you this, Finn?” Her eyes burn, and her chest is tight as she watches her boyfriend struggle to get back to Puck.

“Obviously, it was Rachel,” Kurt says, motioning to the diva.

“What? I didn’t do anything!”

“Yeah, it was Rachel, but I want to hear it from you,” Finn says, finally a bit calmer. Quinn catches the guilty look on Rachel’s face, and a sob escapes at the realization. Would Rachel really do something like that to her? “I want to hear it from both of you.”

“Finn, just calm down,” Schue reasons, holding a hand out towards Finn.

“No!” Finn shouts again, and Quinn has to cover her mouth for a second as another sob forces its way out. “They’re both lying to me!” He breaks away from the boys holding him back, his face red and his movements harsh. Quinn can only watch him through tears.

“Is it true? Just tell me, is it true?”

Quinn feels the fresh tears fall, and she carefully walks towards him, already regretting the words she’s about to say. She nods, keeping her eyes on Finn’s, her breathing heavy as she whispers, “Yes.” Her words are broken and wobbly with the effect of the crying. “Puck is the father.”

She looks at him, crying as she searches for any sign of him being understanding. Of him not lashing out again. She watches the emotions appear on his face. Confusion, hurt. Disbelief.

“So… so all that stuff in the hot tub, you just made that up?” Quinn looks away from him, her eyes closing for a moment to force the tears back.

“You were stupid enough to buy it,” Puck says behind her, and she flinches with a sob as Finn lunges at him, only to be caught by Mr. Schue.

“I am so sorry,” Quinn says between sobs, pleading with him. She doesn’t look away, and she steps closer to Finn. He shoves Schue’s hands off of him.

“Screw this.” He looks around at the New Directions, and ultimately he focuses on Quinn again. “I’m done with you,” he grits out, throwing a finger in her face as he steps back. His hands fly towards his head, and he flings them down again.

“I’m done with… I’m done with all of you!” He screams, turning and storming out of the choir room.

Quinn sobs again, unable to control them even the slightest bit. Especially as Finn kicks a chair over. She shakes her head, turning around. Her gaze lands on Rachel, and the sobs only worsen.

She can tell the guilt on Rachel’s face isn’t guilt for her. It’s for Finn. For ruining their chance at Sectionals.

And that hurts so, so much worse than anything Finn could’ve done. Quinn’s out of the room quickly, wanting to be anywhere except near Rachel. Near Puck. She needs to be alone. Quinn finds a place to sit in the hall, and her arms tremble as sob after sob hits her. She shouldn’t have let Puck get her drunk. She had felt fat that day, and she had also spent the day watching Rachel. Thinking about Rachel.

She wanted to prove she wasn’t gay. She was straight. She was a perfect Christian girl. Right until she accepted wine coolers and slept with Puck.

It takes a moment, a long, painful moment, but the sobs subside, and she’s finally able to breathe clearly. Her hands move from the edge of the seat as she leans back, and they gently rest on her bump. If she had been honest from the start, would things be different?

When the bell rings, Quinn’s eyes are emptily staring into space. She’s out of it, finally calmed (numbed). She almost doesn’t register Rachel in front of her until the girl speaks, her hands nervously clenched into her blue sweater.

“I’m so sorry,” she says softly, and Quinn meets her gaze. Those brown eyes are focused on her so intently, holding the same look they held in the bathroom last year. Quinn knows Rachel means it. “I fully understand if you want to beat me up.”

And Quinn can only watch her and think about the conversation they had earlier in the year. Rachel had said she didn’t hate her, even after all the horrible things Quinn did to her. She remembers vividly asking Rachel about when she said she hated her last year, right after Quinn first insulted her.

_I didn’t hate you. I could never hate you. I just hated the way you made me feel._

“If you can, just try to avoid my nose,” Rachel says, breaking Quinn out of her thoughts. Her eyes close tightly, and Quinn softens a little. As if she could ever physically hurt Rachel.

“I’m not mad at you,” Quinn whispers, her head shaking slightly. Rachel’s eyes open, a little confused. Quinn looks away, swallowing thickly. “All you did was what I wasn’t brave enough to do.” Her eyes sting again as she stares at the wall for a second. There were so many things Quinn would never do out of fear. So many truths she hid. “Tell the truth,” she clarifies, glancing back at Rachel with a small nod. She refuses to notice the soft look in Rachel’s eyes—the sadness there.

Rachel opens her mouth, shaking her head. She sits, and Quinn knows she’s watching her as she talks.

“I was selfish when I told him. I wanted to break you two up so he would want to be with me.” Rachel looks down at the ground, her body turning away from Quinn ever so slightly.

Quinn’s fingers play with each other. She almost wants to scoff. This _thing_ between them was exhausting. Was Finn Hudson really worth all of this? He was a good guy, but Quinn wasn’t sure of much anymore.

_And you know why you got with him. He’s the star quarterback; you’re the head cheerleader. It was obvious._

_So obvious, and so perfect to help you hide all your impure thoughts._

“And now neither of us have him.” Quinn shakes her head. “I have hurt _so_ many people,” she says, tears welling up as she shakes her head and looks down. Rachel’s watching her again, and all Quinn can think about is how hurting Rachel is what hurts the most. She turns her head to look at her as a tear falls.

“Can you go now? I just… really want to be alone.” Rachel nods and stands, already walking away. Quinn shakes her head and inhales sharply. She got herself into this mess, long before she slept with Puck. The feelings she experiences every time she looks at Rachel is a reminder of that. Burning eyes focus on Rachel, and really, she doesn’t want to be alone. Every time she’s been alone has been nothing but pathetic, sorrowful memories. Memories she wants to forget in favor of memories spent with Rachel. Memories where she’s special. Wanted.

Accepted.

Before she can stop herself, she stands and reaches out, grabbing Rachel’s wrist. She’s sorry. For every single thing she did to Rachel, she’s sorry. And she misses her. She misses her laugh and her rambling. Quinn misses the shared jokes and the way they always cared for each other. She misses how close they were; all she wants is to be close again.

And her stomach gets butterflies, bile rises in her throat, and her heart races. Rachel turns to face her, a confused look on her face. Quinn watches her, hazel eyes taking in Rachel Berry again. She’s still the same Rachel Quinn’s always appreciated, and her coming after the ex-cheerleader had to mean _something._

Rachel has _that_ look in her eyes again, and Quinn’s resistance breaks. She moves forward, quick to press her lips against Rachel’s like she had last year. The hand not on Rachel’s wrist goes to her cheek, keeping her close as Rachel returns the kiss so much easier than the last time. They’re kissing, and Quinn’s heart feels like it might give out any second. Kissing Rachel throws any and all logic Quinn had out the window, and all she can focus on is the softness and comfort she feels.

Chatter from down the hall fills her ears, and she yanks back like Rachel had burned her. Immediately, she drops any form of contact.

She kissed Rachel again. This time in the _hallway_ of all places. Quinn kissed Rachel in the hallway after the bell had rang, very obviously releasing students from class. Her throat tightens, and she glances around frantically. No one saw that, right? No one could’ve seen it. Her dad couldn’t know. He’d raise hell again, and he wasn’t even in her life anymore. But Quinn still carried the Fabray name, and being gay would shame that. Her father most definitely couldn’t know.

Neither could her mom.

If they found out at all, it would ruin her. She wouldn’t be able to just transfer and start over. Quinn is still attached to the Fabray name, even if she isn’t living with her parents. She barely has hope that she’ll be able to find a way back into the house. She hates her father and his anger, but a house was better than nothing, and one more wrong move would kick her out permanently, without redemption. There’s a chance she wouldn’t have anything to start over at all if word spread and her parents knew. If anyone knew.

She wishes she didn’t know she had kissed Rachel herself. What had she done? She was already damned for being pregnant at sixteen, and now she had kissed Rachel Berry for the second time.

More than that, she had _enjoyed_ kissing Rachel for a second time.

“Quinn?” Rachel calls softly, and she reaches out to touch Quinn. She recoils, backing up from Rachel.

“I can’t,” she whispers. Her eyes are wide, and her heart’s racing. Her hands tremble just like her lip does. Rachel takes another step towards her.

“Just stay away!” She screams, tears sliding out in full force finally. Her head swarms with all the words her daddy had ever said to her in relation to Rachel, the Berrys, and homosexuals as a whole. Quinn stumbles, almost falling. Kissing Rachel once could be an accident. Kissing her twice and enjoying the kiss twice… that was a sin. A sin she couldn’t handle. 

“Just stay… away. For good.”

Quinn risks one last look at Rachel, and the confusion and hurt in those eyes causes her to choke out a sob as she turns and runs as best as she can down the hall to somewhere safer. Somewhere away from Rachel Berry and the temptations she forces out of Quinn.

**iii.**

Standing on the stage, all Quinn can focus on is her and Rachel watching each other as Finn and Jesse were escorted out by Sue. Her own date was kicked from prom because he started a fight over _Rachel._ Logically, it isn’t her fault. Quinn knows that. She tries to repeat it to herself, but the anger still flares up when she glances at her in the crowd. What was she supposed to do if they won? Dance by herself? Be stuck with the runner up? That’s not what she wants.

 _None of this is what you want, really,_ Quinn thinks to herself.

She shoves the thought down to the bottom of her brain. To the base of the boxes of emotions and thoughts in her mind. Quinn forces a smile. She’s going to win prom queen, make her mom proud, and finally feel like she’s done something right.

Except she can’t stop looking at Rachel, and she hates it.

Her heart races, and she almost panics at hearing Karofsky (of all people) being called as prom king.

_You can still win this. Deep breaths. Keep your smile on. Don’t let the mess that is Rachel Berry’s existence ruin your destiny._

“You suck so bad, Quinn Fabray, I won.” Santana’s clapping wildly, and Quinn rolls her eyes.

But her gut knows Santana’s right. How could Quinn win and not Finn? Unless they already took him out of the running? It was surely too soon, and they would’ve noticed a panic among the vote counters if that was the case.

The cheers and applause deafen her, and she reminds herself to smile as Figgins begins to announce prom queen.

 _If it’s not you, what are you going to do to make your mom proud for this year? Win Nationals? Because Judy Fabray_ surely _cares about some stupid show choir competition._

Quinn feels time move too slowly as Figgins pulls out the damned piece of paper. She hears the mumbled words _write-in votes_ and her heart sinks. She fights the stinging in her eyes. She didn’t win.

How could none of them win?

There’s a dead silence, like Figgins is too scared to say the winner.

 _Just say it, damn it. Which girl managed to top me for prom queen? Who am I worse than? Just how_ pathetic _am I?_

The air is knocked out of her as Kurt’s name is uttered. She lost to… Kurt. She lost to a guy. Not just a guy, but the only gay kid at this school. And she adores Kurt, really, but how could he win? How could he possibly win the one thing Quinn’s been striving for since she started at McKinley?

The stinging burns more significantly now, and she just wants to run. She watches Kurt run, and her heart aches for him. For a moment, her own failure is pushed aside.

And then it rushes back in all at once, and Quinn chokes back a sob as she darts for the bathroom. The same bathroom she’s always cried in.

Rachel’s following her in an instant, immediately next to her as she storms into the bathroom and sobs.

“Quinn, you need to calm down.”

“This is your fault!” Quinn yells, and her chest is tight, her breaths barely coming in and out. The dress feels constricting as she points at Rachel, all the anger and humiliation slipping out. Tears are sliding down her cheeks faster than she can care to notice.

“Nobody ever would have voted for me,” she continues, her voice trembling, “because they know he would rather be with _you._ ” Quinn stares at Rachel, that same twisted feeling blossoming in her stomach and chest. She wants to vomit. To scream. To do _something_.

“That’s not true—”

It happens faster than Quinn realizes. She notices the sting in her palm first. Immediately, regret and remorse take over her, and more tears find a path down her cheeks. Quinn takes in Rachel holding her cheek, hurt in those dark eyes, and the faintest sign of tears breaks Quinn.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her gaze stuck on Rachel. Her hands tremble. She once told herself she’d never physically hurt Rachel.

And she did.

The urge to scream comes back, except she wants to scream at herself. Was she really _that_ angry at Rachel? She’s never done anything to warrant a slap from Quinn, not like Santana did. She can’t possibly stay here. Not when everything’s so chaotic to the point of her hurting the one person she cared for.

“There's no way I’m staying at this school,” she says. Her eyes are still stuck to Rachel, tears slipping free. “I’m gonna transfer.” She shakes her head a little. That’s her only choice, isn’t it? To slip away from the sins, the humiliation, the hate? Finally, her eyes move away from Rachel, blinking as she attempts to fight her tears. She bites her lip, containing a sob she can feel suffocating her chest.

Quinn finds herself at the sink again, staring at her face in the mirror. Her makeup is ruined, and she simply looks like an utter mess. Rachel remains silent as she walks to the sink next to Quinn. Out the corner of her eye, she watches Rachel evaluate where Quinn had slapped her, touching it lightly.

“Most girls would be upset about being slapped in the face,” she says quietly, “but I happen to appreciate the drama of it.”

Quinn does what she can to control her appearance, hoping it’ll comfort her. It doesn’t. She turns herself to lean against the sink, staring at the tiles. Rachel turns to leave, and Quinn can’t keep her thoughts quiet.

“I know you think it’s hard to be you, Rachel, but at least you don’t have to be terrified all the time.” Her voice wobbles, and Quinn knows the words are about her feelings. About the butterflies and the nausea she gets anytime Rachel comes within five feet of her. The same feelings that caused her to kiss Rachel Berry twice.

The same feelings she’s ashamed of and would rather force down into a black hole to disappear.

Rachel places her hands on the sink, leaning forward. Quinn watches her turn her head to face her out the corner of her eye.

“What are you so scared of?” Her head looks forward and down, and Quinn can’t help but think about how gentle Rachel always is during these times. She turns towards Rachel slightly when she’s handed a wipe, and she’s grateful as she takes it gently.

She swallows, or attempts to with how tight her throat feels.

“The future.” _People learning the truth._ She brushes the wipe against her lips, and her hand trembles as she quickly redirects it under her eye.“When all this is gone.” She dabs gently, attempting to clear the mascara spread on her lower eyelids.

“You have nothing to be scared of,” Rachel says with a kind smile. She’s closer to Quinn, and the same feeling is back once more. “You’re a very pretty girl, Quinn.” Quinn turns her head and lifts her gaze to watch Rachel, to watch the expression on her face. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, but,” she looks away, fearing Rachel’s next words, “you’re a lot more than that.”

Rachel leans closer, and Quinn looks away after having glanced at Rachel again. She tears up, a sob developing.

“Here.” Quinn takes a deep breath and exhales as Rachel takes another wipe. “Can I help?”

She only offers a nod that Rachel returns, and Quinn braces herself against the sink as Rachel steps closer, gently cleaning under her eye. Quinn watches her through her eyelashes, her heart pounding hard enough to burst out of her chest.

Rachel shifts closer, her other hand holding Quinn’s jaw as soft as possible as she cleans away the ruined makeup. Quinn bites her lip, and her eyes dart to Rachel’s own lips. The gentleness, the proximity, the openness, and the overall exhaustion coursing through Quinn’s body tear down any fight she has.

For the third time, Quinn kisses Rachel. The hand that was rubbing off makeup stills, and Quinn can tell Rachel’s waiting for the backfire.

Quinn is too.

But she lets herself sink into it. She kisses Rachel, her hands grasping the waist hidden by pink. Soon enough, Rachel’s kissing her back while holding either side of her jaw. Quinn just wants one moment to not worry. Just one. A brief moment of forgetting; the same one kissing Rachel always gives her.

She lets the kiss deepen. Lets herself pull Rachel closer, holding her tight.

It’s only when Rachel’s tongue disrupts the control she has and the letting go of everything she knows that Quinn pulls away. She pulls away sharply, but her hands remain on Rachel. Quinn sees the fear on Rachel’s face. And Quinn swallows thickly and steps back.

“I can’t. That was… a mistake. To forget. I’m emotional and we know I don’t make great choices when I'm like that.”

She doesn’t look at Rachel. She doesn’t want to see the sadness or disgust. She doesn’t want to feel the temptation to kiss her again.

“Just… don’t leave the prom, okay? You still have a whole group of friends there, and there’s most likely a few songs left.” Quinn can hear the slight disappointment, and she wants to cry again as she considers Rachel’s words. Did Rachel exclude herself from that group of friends?

Quinn nods.

“I’m not… _gay_ , Rachel.”

“Of course not.”

Quinn can hear the flare up of anger, and she knows it’s because of how she said the word. Quinn looks at herself in the mirror. She almost cries again. Was she? Did she even know who she was at all anymore? She wasn’t a perfect Christian. She wasn’t prom queen. She wasn’t even liked that well by the one group of people she trusted.

She exhales, shakes her head, and fixes her appearance. She tucks her hair back into place, cleans up her makeup, and hides any sign of her kissing Rachel.

Kurt and Karofsky are on the floor when she enters, and she watches as David rushes past her on his way to leave.

_I understand, David._

The soft music of ABBA’s _Dancing Queen_ grabs her attention, and she spots Rachel dancing near the rest of the New Directions. Quinn takes another deep breath and makes her way over to where Puck, Mercedes, and Santana are, opposite to Rachel. She can forget by dancing, too. Dancing will help her forget everything, including kissing Rachel Berry.

It works, until she catches sight of Rachel with every spin. The smile she has is real, though. Even if she feels like vomiting every time she sees her, enjoying the prom with her friends reminds her to live in the moment.

The joy dies in her heart as she steps up to take her prom photo. _Alone._ Quinn flashes a Fabray smile for the most part; the smile’s only partially real when she thinks about how everyone else had _someone_ to pose with. Even if they were only friends.

They were still wanted, and Quinn wasn’t.

Quinn didn’t even want herself.

**iv.**

Quinn sighs, staring at herself as she carefully applies more lipstick. She caps it, turning her head at a soft _hey._ She presses her lips together as Rachel approaches her, finalizing the coat of lipstick. Rachel watches as the other girls leave, her hands wringing together slightly.

“Look, I need your advice, alright,” Rachel says, looking over her shoulder, “about—about an _adult_ problem.”

Immediately, Quinn’s eyes widen, fearing the worst. She’s aware Rachel and Finn have slept together, and while she doesn’t know the details (and she doesn’t _want_ to), she’s concerned Rachel could’ve made the God awful choice to sleep with _Finn_ without protection. A God awful choice that would absolutely ruin her life.

“Holy crap, are you pregnant?”

Rachel looks around once again, shaking her head a little. “Look, I’m, I’m coming to you as a friend, and, oddly, because I also think that you’re the only person that’ll give me just a straightforward and a thoughtful answer about this.” Quinn watches the hand movements Rachel uses, slightly amused. Her stomach is still heavy with the thought of what Rachel could need advice about.

And a part of her is almost hopeful it’s Rachel admitting she’s gay, or that she likes someone other than Finn.

Quinn knows it’s selfish. She’s only hopeful because she wishes Rachel would like her back—yes, back. Quinn’s spent most of Senior year thinking about Rachel and everything she’s felt about her, and while she’s coming to terms with being gay, it’s still not something she’ll admit without a reason to.

And Rachel considers her a _friend._ It thrills and saddens her in a crazy circle of a pattern.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Quinn says with a nod, settling into a serious expression. Her eyes stay trained on Rachel, picking up on body language cues. “Yes, I can,” her volume drops, “keep a secret.” She’s kept so many secrets, and she’s keeping the biggest one still.

“Okay,” Rachel whispers, inhaling deeply, and Quinn can’t help but prepare herself to hear a confession of feelings. “Well, um, Finn… asked me to marry him.”

Quinn’s heart sinks, and all she does is stare at Rachel for a moment. A gasped, disbelieving chuckle escapes, and she can almost hear the slight hurt in her voice. Why had she even considered that Rachel would like her?

“What did you say?”

“I said I—I needed to think about it,” Rachel admits, and hope soars again. Quinn wants to smash it back into the ground, but her feelings for Rachel keep it floating. Rachel’s eyes flicker back up to meet Quinn’s, and she has to keep from having her breath caught in her throat. Rachel has to think about Finn, about marrying him, which is absolutely the worst thing Rachel Berry could do.

Rachel marrying Finn is also the last thing Quinn wants her to do.

“Well you can’t,” Quinn says almost immediately, never once looking away from Rachel. Her heart pounds a little faster. Despite how quick she responds, the words themselves are still hesitant to come out. The words are like a secret confession; a plea for Rachel to just say she wants to be with her.

“Why not?” Rachel asks, rambling. “I mean, plenty of people get married at our age, and, I mean, I know that he and I haven’t lived together or anything,” Quinn turns away from Rachel, hope once again getting forced down as she listens to Rachel attempt to justify marrying him, “but, you know, I love him, and he’s the one. I know it.” Quinn grabs a folded paper from her bag, turning back to Rachel. She sighs, as Rachel speaks. She offers a tight smile, desperate to slip away from the heart-crushing rant.

She offers the paper to Rachel. She takes it, a little confused.

“What’s this?” Rather quickly, the paper is unfolded, Rachel’s eyes scanning what’s printed on it.

“My ticket out of here,” Quinn says, a slightly forced smile still on her face as her fingers play with each other nervously. She should be overwhelmed with joy at that moment, but it’s bittersweet, overshadowed by the idea of Rachel marrying Finn Hudson and getting stuck in Lima. “I got into Yale, early admissions,” she says, chuckling very softly.

Quinn watches Rachel with an almost sad gaze. She was right there, her future figured out, and it was so close to where Rachel wanted to start hers. It was _perfect._ They wouldn’t be sacrificing anything for each other.

Except it’s too perfect. Perfect enough to be miserable, because she’s getting out of Lima, but her heart’s going to be stuck with Rachel, strangled with every move the girl makes away from Quinn. It’s so perfect that it’s falling apart.

“Turns out,” Quinn says, needing to keep talking, “my essay about overcoming adversity while maintaining a straight-A average during a teen pregnancy really turned on the admissions boards.” Her chest lightens for a moment, but Rachel’s looking at her, and that’s all it takes for it to feel too constricted to breathe.

And then she’s smiling, pulling Quinn into a hug, and it all feels like a cruel joke. She turned away from the religious beliefs she had been forced to accept in order to be happy, and it only kills her more.

“Quinn, that’s amazing.” The hug’s tight, and Rachel still isn’t letting go. “That’s so great.” Quinn hopes Rachel decides to never let go.

But she does, nodding, and Quinn wants to cry at the slightly sad expression on her face. She knows the NYADA letters still haven’t came, and it’s worrying Rachel to the point of tears.

“I’m sure you’ll get your NYADA one soon,” Quinn says, trying to catch Rachel’s eyes again. Rachel shakes her head and nods at the same time, swallowing.

“Oh, yeah, I mean, New York mail is notoriously slow, so it’s…“ Rachel shakes her head and looks away again.

“My point being,” Quinn tries again, her smile soft and encouraging, “is that,” she stumbles on her words, trying to not blurt out talented Rachel is, and how in love Quinn is with her, “I’ve dated Finn, Puck… Sam. Even thought I loved some of them,” she wets her lips, taking a breath, “but by the time the snow falls in New Haven next winter, I won’t know why.”

She already doesn’t know why. Every part of her being is so caught up in Rachel and Quinn’s feelings for her that those relationships have become background noise until she has to pay attention to them. Did she love them? Was she trying to cover up the unexplainable pull to Rachel she had to constantly deal with?

Quinn has no idea, and she doesn’t even care. Not when Rachel’s there, about to waste her life on some high school romance.

“So are, are you saying that Finn and I should _break up_?” Rachel asks, moving closer to Quinn.

Quinn absolutely wants to be saying that. She practically _is_ , but she can tell Rachel wouldn’t approve.

“I’m all for making the most of the next few months, but I’d hate the idea o—of dragging an anchor from my past into the bright lights of my future.” Quinn knows she wouldn’t mind bringing Rachel with her into it, but she _doesn’t_ want to be stuck with hopeless feelings, or guys she doesn’t feel anything for.

And she wants Rachel to see just how much Finn would drag her down. How much he already has, being a slight factor in their fractured friendship. Rachel is destined for the brightest lights, but Finn is a sure fire way to unscrew them. Especially if they get married before they’ve even graduated.

She hates how hypocritical she feels. She would love to be with Rachel. Does she really count as an anchor if Quinn hasn’t had her yet, hasn’t had the chance to see how being together affects them and their ambitions like boyfriends did?

“Rachel, you have an _amazing_ life ahead of you.”

_A life I want to be significant in._

“As hard as it may be, if you want everything that you’ve ever dreamed of, you’re going to have to break up with him.”

Quinn searches almost pleadingly for a sign that Rachel does want to end it. Anything to spark more hope.

“That’s an awful thing to say,” Rachel says, squeezing her eyes closed. Quinn fights the burning in her eyes and the tightness in her chest. She has to make Rachel see that, even without if it’s Quinn, her life is so much better free from Finn.

“Look, you wanted straight and thoughtful,” Quinn says, her tone tough and slightly harsh. Rachel looks back at her. “I guess at one point it made sense to love someone for your whole life,” _it still does, you idiot. You’re begging for her to accept you after almost four years,_ “but it doesn’t anymore.”

Nothing’s ever really made sense to her. Not even Rachel did, outside of little shared moments. But Quinn couldn’t sit by and see Rachel ruin her life. It would kill her more to lose Rachel like that than to just simply not be the choice she makes.

“Women are finding themselves in their thirties now,” Rachel shakes her head, staring at Quinn as the blonde continues. “Every magazine says it. We hardly know what we’re going to want in fifteen years.”

 _You’ll want_ her _just like always_.

“I mean, Finn and I—we can grow together,”

“Look,” Quinn sighs, glancing down and shaking her head, “Rachel… you and Finn are a _lovely_ couple,” she looks back up at her, attempting to convey just how important this is to Rachel, “but if you really want to be happy, you’re going to have to say goodbye.”

_Why can’t you take that advice then, Q? Why do you keep clinging to her when she’s shown no signs of interest outside of when you kissed her?_

_Except she’s always gone after you. Always kissed you back. Always looked at you. Always made you feel seen. She’s always cared. And Finn has almost always been the reason she’s miserable._

Rachel looks at her again, and Quinn sighs shakily. Her lips purse, and she turns away to tuck the paper into her bag. If Rachel chose Finn again, she’d have to let go, wouldn’t she?

It would mean Rachel didn’t want her. That was a fact she probably should’ve already accepted, but every time she looks at Rachel, she can’t imagine letting her go.

Quinn takes a deep breath, grabbing her bag and walking away, once again. Could she ever really say goodbye to the diva that had taken up every aspect of her life?

She steps into the choir room, and the song’s practically begging to come out. Mr. Schue seems almost surprised when she asks to sing, and she mentally tells herself to say _boy_ still.

Even if she’s singing about Rachel, and not Sam, or Puck, or Finn. Saying _girl_ seems too close to a confession.

She has to dance just to keep from staring at her. If she remains too still, she’ll let herself focus so clearly on Rachel instead of just the general area of where Rachel is sitting. Eventually, she gets into it enough to have fun.

Her eyes still pick up Rachel’s expression, barely taking ten seconds to register what the look could mean. Quinn’s gaze drops to the floor when she finishes the song, and it’s only once the clapping starts that she takes the risk of looking at Rachel. Her claps are soft, and her swallowing sets Quinn’s nerves on fire. She averts her gaze to Finn as he compliments her.

She manages a small smile as Mr. Schue prompts her to tell the New Directions about Yale, and it finally sets in properly. She grins and laughs, shaking her head slightly.

“I… got into Yale.”

Everyone smiles, claps, cheers, but her eyes find Rachel’s, and the excitement vanishes at the sadness. Rachel deserves NYADA, deserves for her dream to become real. Surely, she realizes that?

Surely _Carmen_ realizes that?

Rachel deserves so much, especially since she’s always put all her effort into every single thing she did.

“We are so proud of you, Quinn.”

Quinn offers a small smile. “I want to thank you guys…,” she stares at Rachel for a moment, “because without each and every one of you, this would’ve never happened. You supported me and loved me through all the drama, and that’s why I’m standing here. I wasted so much time hating myself for the stupid mistakes that I made, but the truth is that without all of those, I never would’ve dreamed this to be my future.” She wets her lips, hoping Rachel understands how she had such a major role in it all. That she was a star in Quinn’s life, too. “I was the only one standing in the way of myself.”

It’d be all too perfect to add a simple _I’ve finally accepted that I deserve this, and that I’m gay._ It’s the perfect set up. All she had to do was say it.

But she’s always ran, and just for now, she’ll run a little more.

Quinn looks at Rachel, locking eyes with her.

“You can’t change your past,” she says softly, “but you can let go and start your future.”

Her eyes burn slightly, and she knows every inch of her being wants to approach Rachel and admit it all, just to feel free. To give Rachel that choice. Instead, she sends her a sad smile, and she refrains from letting a tear fall as Rachel looks away.

But then there’s a tiny smile, and Rachel’s meeting her eyes again, and hope sets free like a bird.

Maybe Rachel already knew.  
  


Senior year seemed to go by in a flash. Quinn still finds it hard to believe she’s _walking_ down the halls of McKinley, recovered with a Nationals win for Glee and being accepted to Yale under her belt. Seeing everyone so happy, it’s impossible to feel sad about graduating. Everyone’s set.

Except Puck. He is… in trouble. And Quinn wants to help him, even just a little, so he can make it, too. Beth deserves a father with a future.

And she isn’t liable to kiss or be with him again. She’s moving on. From everything. Mostly.

Quinn smiles, entering the girls’ bathroom that holds so many memories for her. Memories involving the girl in front of her, that owns her heart rather permanently. She’s quick to walk up to Rachel, smiling.

“This Freshman just gave me a hug and told me to never change,” she says with a laugh, lighting up as Rachel smiles at her. She leans against the sink, thinking about everything she went through in that brief moment. “Poor thing is too young to realize that change could be so good. Think…” She pauses, picking out her words to exclude the freeing discoveries she’s made about herself. “If we hadn’t changed, we would have never been friends.”

She watches Rachel, blinking a little as the thought of only being Rachel’s friend sinks her heart. Rachel smiles, and Quinn returns it. Returning smiles to Rachel was the easiest thing in the world.

“Still so weird, having you call me a friend.” Quinn’s heart stings a little at the reminder that she had ruined their friendship in the first place. Quinn smiles, pushing herself off of the sink and handing Rachel an envelope.

“There.”

“What’s this?” Rachel asks with a small smile, flipping it over.

Her own smile’s soft. “A Metro North pass from New York to New Haven,” Quinn says, looking at Rachel hopefully. “I got one for me into New York. Everybody keeps talking about staying in touch, and I want to make sure we do.”

Quinn watches Rachel intently, almost nervous. Even if they wouldn’t be more than friends, Quinn couldn’t handle not being close to Rachel at all. Rachel Berry is a grounding point for her. A reminder that things get better; things will always be okay if she stays strong.

“Thank you,” Rachel says quietly, glancing down. Quinn and Rachel meet in a hug, and Quinn’s chest aches, wishing it was one last kiss. “Thank you. It’s so sweet.”

“I’m still not for teen weddings…” Quinn says, pulling back. She watches Rachel for a moment, seeing the confusion swirl in her eyes. In that moment, she decides it’s all or nothing.

Quinn pulls Rachel into a kiss, meaning it without fear for once. She chose to kiss her willingly this time. It’s not some emotional haze of a kiss.

It means everything to her, and when Rachel kisses her back, everything just clicks so well. Quinn has to give her the choice. She can’t run from her feelings and push them down anymore.

She needs to at least have the satisfaction of finally being open. Even if Rachel turns her down, pushes her away, at least it’s _out there._

Her hands are on Rachel’s cheeks, almost desperately keeping her close. Every ounce of love she’s been forcing away comes out, pumping into the kiss every time their lips meet. Quinn hates the concept of fireworks, and she absolutely isn’t feeling them.

She feels something better than that. The release of the weight of the world off the shoulders. Those butterflies in her stomach finally settling. Her head seems to feel like it’s screwed on straight, even if every single one of her senses are swallowed by Rachel.

Kissing Rachel isn’t fireworks; it’s _clarity._ She knows it’s right. Kissing Rachel has always been the only right thing in her life, even when she swore it was wrong. Russell Fabray had no clue as to what he was talking about.

How could something so freeing and filling be a sin when it was the only thing that made her feel pure? Especially when Rachel seemed to move closer, putting herself into the kiss as well.

Her lungs burn, and that’s the only reason Quinn pulls back, gasping to haul air into her lungs. Her eyes flutter open, catching the fear and hope in Rachel’s eyes.

She’s waiting for Quinn to run.

But she won’t. Quinn isn’t running. Not this time, and not any time after. She’s going to finally be honest and stand her ground.

“Everyone thinks you and Finn are meant to be Rachel,” Quinn says, keeping her eyes locked on Rachel’s. “But I just can’t accept that. We’ve spent four years falling apart and coming back together. Every single time I was at the edge, close to falling off it, you dragged me back. You kept coming after me, no matter what I did to you. You knew me when I didn’t. And a part of me has always sought you out. That’s why we’ve always ended up back here. That sounds as close to soulmates as anyone can get, Rach.” Quinn inhales deeply, resting her forehead against Rachel.

“I don’t want to run, anymore. I’m not scared. I know who I am, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. And who I am is Quinn Fabray, the teenager who’s spent four years being in love with the beautiful diva, lacking the guts to go through with _anything_. I lacked the guts to accept myself for being gay, to accept being your friend, and to accept my feelings. I ran when I wanted to speak up every time you crawled back to Finn or sought him out instead of focusing on yourself and your future. And more than that, I’m the almost adult that finally has the guts to admit… I don’t want that anymore. I am in love with you, Rachel Berry, and I want to be with you. No running or hiding.”

Nausea races through her as she pleads for a response from Rachel with her eyes, and she almost accepts the loss, that Rachel doesn’t want her.

And then Rachel’s kissing her again.

Rachel’s kissing her, offering a quiet answer, and finally, Quinn cries from pure joy, kissing Rachel back.

“Yes,” Rachel murmurs into the kiss. She pulls away to meet Quinn’s gaze once their eyes open, that beautiful Rachel Berry smile on her face.

“Absolutely yes, Quinn. I want to be with you, too. I always have, since you first kissed me. I’ve wanted you to say something for so long.” She kisses Quinn again, and for once, she doesn’t forget.

Quinn allows herself to enjoy remembering while kissing Rachel. She’s not the same scared Freshman anymore, and Quinn loves it.

She doesn’t have to say goodbye to Rachel.

Not that she ever would have, anyway. They would’ve crashed into each other again later, most likely in the same bathroom they always have at some reunion for Glee or school. Sooner or later, they would’ve ended up in this same situation.

And maybe, that just proves Quinn and Rachel were meant to find their way to each other after all.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to see me on twitter @saltzmansfabray


End file.
